Córdoba in May became a running joke between a lot of the PRESHCO students. Since first arriving in Córdoba, whenever we would meet a new Spaniard, they would tell us how lucky we were to come to Córdoba in the springtime because we would be in Córdoba for the blessed month of May. We better not plan any trips for that month, we better not leave the city, because this month is the best month of the year and you don't want to miss out on a single second. Yes, the unanimity of the enthusiasm for Córdoba in May was hysterical, but the truth is the Spaniards did not exaggerate the fun to be had.
May starts out with a festival called Cruces de Mayo. It's the first weekend, and it's a prime example of a festival that seems religious but actually has nothing to do with religion.
In almost every plaza, there is a cross made of flowers set up. There is also a stand selling alcohol, and music plays well into the morning. The mood of the cruces varies by plaza. Some crosses have more modern music, with a whole bunch of people swaying to the music, drinks in hand. Other crosses play typical Sevillanas music, with natives dancing the traditional dance of the region, each person giving it their own particular flair since most Spaniards learn the dance not from classes but from experience on the streets.
The energy is intoxicating. Spaniards like their alcohol, and at this event the drink of choice is called "Rebujitos," which is essentially fine white wine mixed with Seven Up. While all of the stands offer this drink, most people seemed to prefer to make it themselves, meaning that wandering home at night was basically a trudge through Seven Up bottles before the street cleaners came and erased any evidence. The Spaniards party long, so the dancing stretches far into the wee hours of the morning.
After the raucous Cruces de Mayo, there is a more low key celebration, the Festival of Patios, in which home owners open up their private garden courtyards for the curious inspection of Córdoba natives and tourists alike. These gardens take an incredible amount of work, and are absolutely breathtaking.
Each patio has it's own flair, but a lot of them feature old artifacts or old kitchens from a Córdoba past. The patio in the photograph above has won first prize so many times that they no longer enter it in the competition because it isn't fair for one patio to win every year.
In Córdoba, a city which reached 105 degrees Fahrenheit when I was their in May, these cool patios with fountains, shade, and flowers are incredibly important and a welcome relief from the direct midday sun.
At the same time Córdoba had the "Batalla de las flores" or the "flower battle." This is essentially a parade where women, dressed in their best traditional gitana clothing, sit on floats decorated with paper flowers and throw carnation heads at members of the crowd.
The crowd, in return, catches the carnations, gathering them up from the ground or leaping into the air to grab them, and then throw them back. The effect is brilliant as the sky is filled with fresh flowers and the squeals of delighted children or surprised adults as a flower hits them right in the forehead.
The Spaniards don't forget the fun to come though, and many of the floats either had arches modeled after the cathedral or like a caseta, a fair tent, or the wall of someone's patio.
Next the program whisked us off to a nearby village, where we got to participate in a Romería. This is another party that seems like a religious festival but actually has very little to do with religion. In a Romería, the Spaniards get dressed up once again in their best gitana clothing, put a religious statue on a cart pulled by oxen, and march behind the cart to another church. People follow on foot, on horse, or pulled in a cart.
The church we walked to was a couple miles away in the wilderness. We trailed along a dusty path, stopping every hour or so to eat and drink. We were surrounded by sunflower fields, olive groves, and a perfect blue sky.
Some people followed in serious style. Besides the amazing clothing, some got to ride in spectacular floats such as this one.
The oxen were absolutely enormous. They trudged slowly, but the pace was perfect for the warm air. Besides stopping every hour to gobble up sandwiches, cheese, apricots, water, and beer, the Spaniards also celebrated by singing the entire way to the church. This even was simultaneously one of the most ludicrous and beautiful things I have ever seen. Once the statue had been safely stowed in the church, everyone sat down in their own tents and continued to eat and drink for the next several hours, also taking breaks to dance some Sevillanas or take a stroll around the camp.
Finally, we got to the event we had heard so much about since arriving, the Feria. Think a state fair, only instead of tents full of animals, make tents full of bars and music that are open till 6 am in the morning with excited young people dancing until the break of dawn.
To get to the fair grounds, you have to cross a bridge lined with twinkling lights, the glittering brilliance of the rides calling you. Throngs of people head to the fair, even late at night because Spaniards are practically nocturnal when there is a party to be found.
The besides the casetas, or the tents with dancing, the fair was a lot like something you would find in the United States, only there were food booths specifically for wine, and instead of a fried candy bar, I munched on churros filled with chocolate and fresh donuts drenched in Nutella.
At the entrance of the fair is the spectacular model of the Mezquita, with the beautiful arches and tower gleaming in the darkness. According to the Spaniards, the one this year was quite small compared to the past. About half the size. Apparently budget cuts have hit the fair because of the economy. Despite the downsizing, I was still quite impressed, and the fair was an absolutely spectacular and magical experience, whether I was dancing in one of the tents for the various political parties in Spain, riding the Ferris Wheel (very American) or wandering among all of the people with chocolate staining my cheeks.
And with the month of May behind me, it was time to leave. I was so sad to leave Córdoba, so much so that I think I did most of my mourning before even leaving. I have rarely had as exciting a time as I did in Spain, so filled with friends and new experiences and culture. It was everything I had every dreamed of from a study abroad experience and more. I simply couldn't imagine prying myself away from this wonderful city that I had so whole heartedly embraced in the past months, and I dreaded leaving as much as I realized how incredibly lucky I was to have had the amount of time that I did. However, leaving Córdoba was much more difficult than being separated from the city. Now that I am home, with my family and friends, I am fine, and the adjustment has been much easier than I expected. I look back on Córdoba almost as if it were a dream, but the kind that is so vivid that even after waking you still feel like it is happening. I cherish every moment I had there, and one day I know I'll make it back to wander the streets and remember the blissful idyllic days of my youth.
